


Future Bound

by Watchword



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/M, Podfic Welcome, Time traveling paradox need not apply, dubcon, piso sexo lololololol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 14:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13503777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watchword/pseuds/Watchword
Summary: Time-traveling to the future, a young Leonardo discovers a horrific truth: his older self is both in the Foot and Karai. Awkward.





	Future Bound

**Author's Note:**

> You can just imagine that this is a Leonardo/Karai from whatever universe you prefer. This small pron descends from a nascent webcomic plot where the young TMNT time-travel into the future with Old Fuck Don and Old Fuck Raph _à la_ Archie TMNT to take care of Something or Other. In this instance, Old Fuck Leonardo is in the Foot and that really upsets Young Leonardo a great deal.
> 
> Karai thinks it's super funny no matter what universe she descends from.
> 
> Technically my friend helped because while we were discussing Splinter slash fiction, as normal people do, autocorrect changed "oral sex" to "piso sexo," or floor sex. She dared me to write something based on that. So there you go. My simple porn child's convoluted parentage.

For a while, the young Leonardo struggled with his bonds, but the knots were out of his reach and too cleverly twisted. As far as he was concerned, this was merely another challenge, and without hesitation he ground the rope against the wooden pillar. He didn't know how long he struggled, but one thought gave him inordinate strength:

How could it have come to this?

The horror of seeing his future self, completely composed (as though it were normal! as though it were laudable!), wearing that Foot emblem over his heart and the accoutrements of an Elite—throwing the entire mission into peril without even asking why his brothers were there—socking his own flesh-and-blood in the jaws without hesitation, and cozying up to Karai with a closeness that made him feel intensely uncomfortable down in the pit of his stomach—

The horror rolled over him, over and over, freshly painful each time.

"What happened to you?" he hissed to himself. Blood trickled down his wrists as he ground the restraints. "How could this be the future?"

His only consolation was future Donatello's wry words: "It's _a_ future. It's not _the only_ future."

He had to think of a way to not become the very creature he had sworn to kill.

Finally, Leonardo grew tired, and leaned back against the pillar. At least he wasn't there to die. What had his future self said? That he had to go back to the past. "Too many enemies." Even this knowledge rankled. He was no coward to run from battles.

Soon he heard a door open, and someone laughing quietly, and then the door to the tatami room slid open and Karai dragged his future self inside.

Past Leonardo gaped and sat up in horror. Without the armor, his elder self was much taller and slimmer than he had expected, and raked over with scars. His arms had been bound behind him in the same knots that bound his younger self. But this older self wasn't afraid. He was laughing. Karai thrust him down against the mat. He fell with a practiced slump, throwing his legs wide open. Karai straddled him, stroking his inner thighs, lowering her hips over his exposed tail and pressing into him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" the younger Leonardo said, before he knew what he was doing.

His older self rolled over, and his eyes widened.

"Wait a minute!" he said, struggling to a sitting position. "What's he doing here?"

Karai shoved the older Leonardo back against the floor. Her hand flew beneath the lip of his plastron. Older Leonardo grunted and arched his back, toes digging into the tatami.

"You're... you're going to scar him," he panted. "He doesn't underst... he doesn't... Don't. Not... not... oh god."

He closed his legs around her as though to squeeze her out. But his attempts were half-hearted. Karai's hand, unseen, was down between his legs, moving, always moving, and her other free hand held him down while he writhed.

"It's been so long since you really struggled," she whispered.

She leaned low over him. His eyes were clamped shut, and he was hissing through his nose in controlled breaths. Every now and then the control broke and he panted, began to shudder. When that happened he looked back up toward his younger self with an apologetic look and struggled back to a controlled center.

When Karai looked up at the younger Leonardo, it was with a mocking half-smile.

_I own you_ , it said.

"Stop!" younger Leonardo said. "Leave him alone!"

"But he doesn't want to be left alone," Karai drawled. She pursed her lips, cocked her head. "Or else he wouldn't be here, would he? Would he."

"Shut up," the older Leonardo puffed.

For a few minutes the older Leonardo struggled up against Karai, every now and then half-sitting, before her fingers dove deep into his body or pressed insistently against his chest. Every now and then past Leonardo could see the swollen tail struggling to clap against the bottom of his shell—struggling, twitching, curling, uncurling, with the head of his penis sometimes glistening against the opening of his cloaca. Her constantly searching fingers traced the outlines of that cloaca, thrust inward, massaged in circles, rubbed back and forth. Finally, groaning, knees falling open, the elder Leonardo's dick slid out into Karai's hand. Past Leonardo gaped in wide-eyed horror and crushed his legs together. It was doing something to him, too, a twitch deep inside of his own tail, and he hated himself for feeling it.

Karai cooed softly to the older Leonardo, bent over him, stroking him with officious hands. His dick slid out in even increments until she held the whole length of it, running her hand up and down the shaft, massaging the flared head, almost thoughtlessly, because—and past Leonardo shuddered at the thought—because she'd obviously done it a hundred times before, and knew the feeling of it without even having to look. It both horrified and intrigued him. Even he wasn't that knowledgeable about that part of his body. He wasn't the sort for masturbation. That was Raphael's angle, unfortunately for the entire family.

The dick swelled underneath her touch, darkening, hardening, glistening.

"What am I going to do to you?" Karai whispered in the elder Leonardo's ear. "So many possibilities."

"Not... not here," he hissed. "Not with him watching."

"You wanted to rut me like a beast last time," she said softly. "Didn't you?"

"I said... I said... not here. Ah. Ah, god."

His whole dick twitched and throbbed and a bubble of pre-cum shone in the dim light. Past Leonardo closed his eyes. He could feel the throb inside of his own body, the forbidden nature of the moment, the sudden realization of what those rooftop battles with past Karai had meant to him. Was _this_ what he had always wanted? For her to lay him flat, incapacitate him, lean over his prostrate body, her breath hot on his throat, her hot hand on his thigh?

Karai leaned back, stood tall. The older Leonardo sat up beneath her, arms jerking against his restraints. He was trying to withdraw his dick into the protective sheath of his tail, cover it with his knees.

"No, Karai," he panted. "Not here. Back to the... the bedroom." He balanced against his elbow and pushed up onto his knees.

As he rose, Karai stripped her pants down to her knees and kicked them off. Past Leonardo was entranced. The naked gleam of her hips, the thick muscle of her thighs, the curls of her hair, wet with sweat, or desire, or both, and the glistening ruddy lips, and then she had grabbed the older Leonardo's face and crushed his mouth up against her—

"You're not even trying," she said softly, stroking the back of his head.

Suddenly she shouted and jumped back, her hands covering her nethers.

"Did you just _bite_ me?" she said.

"Not here, I said!" Leonardo rose to his feet, his dick still embarrassingly swollen—too much to withdraw completely between his legs.

Hissing, Karai crashed into him. Without the use of his arms, he wasn't much good. He hit the ground swearing, and in the next moment, she was on top of him. She kicked his knees aside and straddled him again, and then her hand was on his dick, and she thrust him inside of her.

Older Leonardo snarled and writhed. His hips bucked up against hers—helplessly, instinctively, and not without desire on his part. She held herself above him, half-clothed, and sank down onto him in degrees, engulfing him, swallowing him up, until only the barest arc of his swollen member could be seen twitching between them. Her fingers fell to that slightly visible part of him, and she stroked the base of his tail, slid her fingers around the already filled lips of his cloaca. The muscles of her belly were contracting—she breathed in time with it—some inward exercise that the younger Leonardo could only imagine.

His thighs were damp. It horrified him.

She glanced at the younger Leonardo and held his gaze for a moment, victorious.

_I own you. I own you completely. And there is nothing you can do about it._

She began to rock up and down on the older Leonardo's cock, one hand working his tail, the other pressed against his chest, sometimes his face or throat, while he panted, eyes shut at first. When she began to slide up and down on his shaft, finally moving both of her hands to his breastplate for better balance, the older Leonardo's eyes flashed open and fixed on hers—and the look of devotion on his face could not be hidden, the look of utter desire and delight, the look of complete slavery.

Suddenly the younger Leonardo hated him and the desire inside of him was quenched so completely that all previous lust was forgotten. Was he really that fucking pathetic? Had he really betrayed his brothers just to rub one out? There were easier ways, there were kinder ways than this. Surely on their wide-ranging adventures there had been some kinder woman, someone who appreciated him enough to respect his moral code.

The older Leonardo grunted and bucked beneath her, eyes fastened on her, panting. The room was hot and thick with the scent of them. She lowered herself on his dick, her rhythm slowing, less frenetic, more deliberate... and he lurched up to meet her, thighs straining, toes clawing ruts into the mats. Without warning, he gasped and bucked hard, legs shuddering, whole body quaking. She grabbed at his thighs, laughing as he came. His tail pumped beneath her, fast and steady. Cum dripped down the insides of her legs. For a long minute, she drank him in, until the tail's pumping slowed and finally strained in one last primal burst. The insides of her legs gleamed, streamed with his fluid. She released him. He slumped to the floor, panting, his eyes flickering. They were still bound together by his swollen length.

As he drew deep, ragged breaths beneath her, she reached up beneath her breasts and withdrew a knife. His eyes were still unseeing, and it took him a moment to register what she was doing.

"That old trick?" he said in a thick voice.

"I guess you're right," she said, and sliced his restraints.

With a swiftness that startled them all, he rolled on top of her and pinned her against the floor. Now she struggled, pushing back against his shaft to dismount, but due to his greater girth and flared head it was clear that he had swollen to a point that she could not simply pull off of him. He shoved her blouse and bra up over her arms and face, ripping a seam, baring her breasts. They were small, erect, pale. She struggled, but the awkward way that her clothes had been thrust up over her arms and face prevented her from disrobing outright. As she thrust the garment back over her head with awkwardly rolling shoulders, he fondled and kissed her breasts, and his other hand went down between her thighs.

"Fuck you!" he hissed, rubbing at her slit. "God, fuck you."

She squealed, gasped, cursed, finally thrusting the blouse up far enough that it only held her elbows captive. And then he pressed his mouth down against hers, and they kissed hungrily, angrily, gasped, kissed again. His mouth went down to her nipple, sucking, biting, and she arched angrily, finally thrusting her blouse off and pushing urgently at his head. His other hand moved where the younger Leonardo could not see, somewhere in that dark thatch of hair. Karai kicked, arched her back, bit her lip. A pearl of blood rose up against the white of her teeth.

"What... what happened to... 'not here'?" she gasped, half-rising.

"Fuck you," he whispered, and shoved her back against the floor. He was pulling back as though trying to pull out, but could only slide out in degrees, then thrust back in with a bestial grunt so that the two of them quaked together. They were breathing together, breathing in rhythm, hearts beating in rhythm.

Suddenly she gasped. Her hand went down between her thighs to grapple with his.

"You want to wait?" he said. "Are you... are you kidding?"

"Ha!" she said, sucking air, and collapsed against the floor. Her belly swelled with rapid breaths; she strained upward as though attempting to withdraw, and then sank down again.

"Why are you fighting?" he whispered.

"Because it's... it's fun," she said.

"Let go." He kissed her breast again, and sucked at her nipple.

With a great shuddering groan, she dropped against the floor. Her legs splayed, shaking. She came, and with it, her own gush of fluid, spurting around his swollen member.

The older Leonardo kissed each breast, long and slowly, and then kissed the center of her breastbone, and up her throat to her panting mouth, and when he kissed her there she held it. Their arms were interlocked, his hands cradling her head, his fingers running through her hair, her fingers twined through his headband. There was a moment of strange, quiet tenderness between them, a weird peace. Their bodies fit perfectly together somehow, the great flat plating of his breast crushed against the jut of her ribs.

A pang struck the younger Leonardo through the heart. He was barely breathing, gasping through his teeth, his thighs pinched together.

She could love him, he realized.

His Karai could love him, too.

In fact, it was almost a certainty.

All he would have to give was his soul.


End file.
